Hostile Witness

by Rebecca Forster

  Josie sighed and let the chair fall back to the ground. She tossed the picture on the table. It was just another one out of a hundred photographs taken that night. There were too many maybes, too much of a chance Hannah was guilty and a small chance she wasn’t. Either way, Hannah had pled guilty in front of Judge Norris. It was enough for the court. That should be enough for Josie. Hannah was gone, sentenced to life without the possibility of parole. There was nothing more definitive than that.

  Josie put all the files, the loose papers, the photos and charts into the case boxes and lugged them to the spare room. She closed the door and hoped that in a week she’d forget all that stuff was in there. In the kitchen she rinsed out the coffee pot, she touched the message Archer had taken from Rudy Klein and thought about returning the call. Instead, she picked up Max’s old pink leash.

  “Hey, big boy,” she whispered as she crouched down beside him. He raised his face as if he was going to kiss her. Josie took his ears in her hands and nuzzled her cheek against his fur. Max’s tongue flicked out and missed her. She pulled back. “It’s okay. I appreciate the effort.”

  Josie turned his collar, clipped on his leash, and went out the front door. The night was moist and fresh, dark and deserted. Josie and Max were halfway down the walk when Max fell onto his haunches, pulling Josie back. He growled, his eyes glowing orange as a turn of his head caught the porch light just right. Attuned to his instincts, Josie stopped short and planted herself. She was ready for whatever, or whoever, was behind the overgrown bougainvillea bush. Josie relaxed. There was nothing to fear back there, only someone to loathe.

  “What do you want?”

  Josie pulled Max close to calm him even though she’d rather let him loose on Linda Rayburn. Not that it would do any good. The woman was like a cat with nine lives – always landed on her feet – and always seemed to land unexpectedly on Josie’s doorstep.

  “I want to talk. I think we need to talk.”

  “When you want to talk, call. This is my home. You’re not welcome here.”

  Turning on her heel, Josie went toward the beach but Linda darted at an angle to intercept her. Josie sidestepped. Linda followed.

  “I need to talk to you about Hannah,” Linda insisted.

  “Maybe you should talk to Hannah. She’s been hoping for a little conversation from you all her life.”

  “That’s what I want to do, but she won’t see me.” Josie pulled on Max’s leash. They went around Linda. It didn’t help. Linda followed, raising her voice, unwilling to give up. “You think you’re the only one that feels bad? Do you think you’ve got some lock on feelings, Josie? Josie? Come on. Hannah is in jail. I don’t want her to die in there without talking to me.”

  “Then you should have thought about that before you did what you did.” Josie threw that suggestion over her shoulder.

  “You mean tell the truth? You mean I should have committed perjury?” Linda yelled. “Is that what you mean Ms. Bates, attorney at law?”

  Josie stopped again. She was on the bike path, almost at the beach. She could outrun Linda in a flash. She could leave her behind. The problem was that Josie knew she wasn’t ready to leave Hannah behind, and Linda was the link.

  “I’m taking the dog for a walk,” she said tersely. “Come if you want.”

  Josie set a brisk pace but Linda wasn’t deterred. She was shoulder to shoulder with Josie; the dog was between them. Josie slid a look toward Linda. She looked different, but still beautiful. Tonight she was in jeans, a turtleneck and a windbreaker. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Josie’s sense of déjà vu – of Linda as a co-ed - was unsettling. How often they had walked back to their horrid little apartment, tired from a workout, disappointed from a loss, or exulted by a win. They had been so young, so able to bounce back from bad news and run with the good. It was such a long time ago. Now it took longer to reconcile disappointments. Their losses weren’t measured in points, but lives and confidence and affection. Those feelings of camaraderie that Josie had once shared with Linda were gone for good.

  They reached the pier. Josie and Max turned left. Linda might as well have been on a leash, too. All three walked to the end, passing under the high lights, their illumination ghostly and flattened by the sea mist. The last vestiges of rain hung in the air. Their shoes were soft. They were shadows gliding soundlessly over the weather worn wooden planks.

  “I’ll have the files packed up by the end of the week. Let me know who is going to be handling the appeal and I’ll send them along,” Josie said just to hear herself talk. She was unable to walk with this woman in comfortable silence. Suddenly Josie stopped, unable to keep what she was thinking inside any longer. “I think you lied, Linda. Or at best, I think you weren’t sure what you saw that night, and I hope another lawyer can get you to tell the goddamn truth during an appeal.”

  Linda’s head cocked to the side as she listened. She lowered her eyes then wandered to the railing that ran the length of the pier. Her shoulders rose and fell as she breathed in the salty ocean air. Josie looked at her back, knowing that there wasn’t much to see below but dark.

  “And what’s that truth, Josie?” Linda asked.

  Josie took a step forward and then another. Her voice was low, her words were sure.

  “I think the truth is that you would have said anything to protect your husband. Or maybe you just wanted all this to be over and pointing the finger at Hannah was the way to make that happen.”

  Linda raised her head. Josie could see the lovely curve of her cheek, her thick, dark hair, and those long lashes that shaded her exquisite green eyes.

  “What you’re saying is that it never was, never could have been, Hannah.” Linda sighed. “Why is it you’re the only one who sees clearly, Josie? I’ve always wondered that? Why are you the final word?”

  “I’m not. I only ask the questions until I’m convinced I have the final answer. In this case, I don’t think I’ve got that.”

  Linda lifted her face to the ocean breeze. She inhaled. Josie could hear the breath come out of her mouth for a long time as she exhaled. Finally Linda turned around and rested her elbows on the railing. She crossed her feet at the ankles.

  “It’s kind of moot, Josie. There won’t be an appeal if Hannah doesn’t want one, and how am I going to know if Hannah won’t talk to me? Hannah won’t talk, period.”

  Just then a huge wave cracked against the pilings. Max skittered behind her at the sound. Josie pulled him close then stuck her hands in the pockets of her jacket. It was a nesting night, the kind of weather that inspired beach people to light wood in fireplaces long unused, the kind of night that made Californians think they were actually having a season, the kind of night that Josie treasured when she shared her bed with Archer. Josie’s soul was tired. Her mind was tired. She didn’t want to fight with Linda anymore.

  “What do you really want, Linda? Do you want to be friends? If that’s it, then you can just turn around right now. We never really were friends, and we sure as hell aren’t going to be now.”

  “No, I’m not here for me. It’s Hannah,” Linda admitted. “I was hoping you would try to convince her that she needs to see me. It shouldn’t end like this between a mother and daughter.”

  “Shit happens between mothers and daughters, Linda. Get used to it. Leave it alone for awhile,” Josie said, offering the best advice she had.

  “Easy for you to say, she’s not your daughter. But you tried to make her feel like she was. You tried to take her away from me with all that understanding crap you fed her,” Linda said peevishly. “Now I want Hannah back. I want you to go ask her to talk to me. You owe it to me to at least to try, Josie. I mean after everything you did.”

  “You know what, Linda? I think we all screwed up big time. So if you want to talk about debt, if I owe anyone, it’s Hannah. And pay back isn’t getting you a face to face so you can get under that kid’s skin again. That’s about where I’m willing to leave things. I’m sick and tired of t
he both of us.”

  “Don’t give me that. I did what I could,” Linda snapped.

  “Yeah, you were real helpful when you testified. There’s nothing like an eyewitness account from the defendant’s mother.”

  “What choice did I have?” Linda cried as Josie started to walk back down the pier. When Josie didn’t stop, Linda hurried after her. “Tell me, what choice?”

  Josie laughed softly and shook her head. She stopped walking.

  “You’re forgetting one thing, Linda. I didn’t ask you if you saw who set the fire, I asked where your husband was when the fire was set. If you’d answered the question I asked, Hannah wouldn’t be in prison right now.”

  “Yeah,” Linda shot back, “and Kip would be there for something he didn’t do. That’s a choice?”

  Josie started on again. This argument was accomplishing nothing.

  “Give me a break. You put Hannah in prison, not me, and I’m not going to try to get you off the hook.”

  “Jesus, don’t say that,” Linda breathed, “I swear, it just came out when you were pounding on me about Kip. It wasn’t fair. It just made me so mad that Hannah would tell you that Kip wasn’t in bed. After everything he did for her. I couldn’t believe she would be that ungrateful. She’s the one that made all this happen.”

  Josie threw up her hands and wiggled Max’s leash. He started to walk a little faster. She went with him and Linda followed. Angrily, Josie kept talking.

  “Hannah never said a word against you, or Kip. Not one. It was her friend from rehab who told me. Miggy Estrada came to my house and gave me Hannah’s sketchbook. He told me Hannah checked on you every night. He told me about Chicago.”

  “That loser? He’s the one that did this?” Linda cried in disbelief.

  “If Miggy’s such a loser, and he’s who Hannah went to for help, what does that make you?”

  At the end of the pier Josie jumped the few feet to the still wet sand and helped Max. When Max hit the ground they both headed toward the water, the night air did nothing to cool Josie’s frustration.

  Linda jumped down too and jogged to Josie’s side. The breeze kicked up. The fog had come in. Linda’s hair had frizzed around her face. She pushed the stray hairs back behind her ear and followed when Josie took a sharp left to dodge the wash of a wave. Linda grabbed Josie and twirled her around.

  “Listen. I did what I could do ever since that kid was born. Maybe I didn’t ask Hannah all the right questions because I didn’t want to hear the answers, okay? I was afraid to hear them. You did what you could do to save her, but the fact of the matter is Hannah finished this whole thing by pleading guilty.”

  “So leave me out of whatever else goes down now, Linda.”

  Another wave was coming in. It broke a few feet away and skittered up the sand. Josie stepped back. Linda did the same but not fast enough. They both looked down just as the water pooled around Linda’s shoes.

  “Damn.” Angrily Linda lifted her foot to shake off the seawater then stepped back when another wave followed close behind.

  Josie stayed put. The water ran over the top of her shoes and Max’s paws and rushed back out to sea. It left the sand glistening with wet, smooth again as it waited for the next wave – or the next footstep that would leave an imprint.

  Oh my God.

  Josie’s psyche doubled over with the brutal blow that had just been delivered. There in the shimmering sand was a pattern Josie had seen before. They were shallow indentations at the heel and toe; the same pattern that had been left at the door of Hannah’s studio. It was a pattern that belonged to the person who walked into the west wing before the fire started, the person who left before Hannah’s paintings fueled the fire that killed Fritz Rayburn. Those marks were made by a murderer; those marks were made by Linda Rayburn.

  “Josie. Jesus, you’re going to get soaked.”

  Startled, Josie looked up. The water came again but Josie was rooted to the ground. She looked at Linda’s feet then back at the sand until finally she caught Linda’s curious gaze.

  “Oh, Christ.”

  Josie pulled Max close. He stumbled with her, away from the water. She stumbled in the sand, lurching backwards, knowing one thing and one thing only. She needed to get away from Linda Rayburn.

  “Look, it’s late. I’ve got a lot to do, Linda. I can’t help you anymore. I can’t. I just can’t.”

  Josie started toward home but Linda took her arm. Max’s tail went down and a growl came up. Josie looked at the hand that held her and then up into Linda Rayburn’s face. The breeze blew Linda’s ponytail over her shoulder and nipped at the back of Josie’s bare neck but it was the look in Linda’s eyes that raised the goose bumps on Josie’s skin.

  “I want to go home, Linda,” Josie said quietly.

  “Okay. I just want to make sure we understand each other.” Linda put her free hand in her pocket. Josie tensed. Her eyes darted over the deserted beach. If Linda had a knife or a gun in that pocket Josie needed a plan but Linda had neither. She had an envelope. “I have your check.”

  Josie looked at it and tried not to shrink away. She couldn’t touch this blood money; she couldn’t bear the touch of this woman who had given up her only child to save herself. Josie’s brain pounded with that knowledge. She had been so blind; ignoring Linda’s questions about eyewitnesses and Hannah’s survival.

  “We’re square, Linda.”

  Josie shook off Linda Rayburn’s hand and backed away. She kept her eye on Linda Rayburn a minute longer, then turned and trudged across the sand, careful to walk even though she wanted to run. Gulping air in an attempt to calm the beating of her heart and clear a mind that was racing with the implications of what she had just seen Josie tried not to arouse Linda’s interest. Her back burned where she was sure Linda was watching, her interest sharp and keen. At the bike path, Josie chanced a glance over her shoulder. Linda was standing where Josie had left her but she was looking out to sea, not at Josie after all.

  Linda’s hands were in the pockets of her jacket. Her feet were wide apart and her head was up. She should have looked lonely standing there on that stretch of beach; instead Linda Rayburn looked as if she was an army of one and was stronger than the invading force.

  Josie jogged the rest of the way home.

  39

  “Archer. It’s Jo. Call me back ASAP. Sooner than that. Call me.” – Josie Baylor-Bates, 10:34 PM

  “Hi there, Josie. What are you doing?”

  Linda Rayburn’s voice was so sweet she could have been greeting a lover. That lilt might have called him back to her bed or teased him into a favor or put him on notice that she was on to his game, but Linda Rayburn wasn’t talking to a lover. She was calling to Josie who knelt on the floor of the spare room in a puddle of light from the lamp on the small table.

  Josie stiffened when she heard that sultry, peppery voice. Her hands trembled and her stomach turned with a sudden sickness. Bad times were coming. The landlord was there, and the rent was due. Frozen in mid-air, Josie’s hands hovered over the array of photographs she had ripped out of their file jackets and spread on the floor. Slowly, she sank back on her heels as Linda Rayburn circled around, towering over her, confident as could be.

  “Did I leave the door open?”

  Josie’s eyes were steady as they met Linda’s. There was no flicker of surprise, no current of fear to betray her astonishment at finding Linda standing in her home - uninvited, unexpected, and unwanted.

  Linda’s shoulders raised playfully, a coquette’s apology. Her smile was charming and edgy.

  “Nope. Front door’s closed up tight,” she said.

  “I didn’t know you could pick locks, Linda.”

  “Didn’t have to, Josie. This isn’t the most secure place in the world. You should have had someone take care of that broken pane on the back door. Easy as pie to get in.”

  Josie was lulled by the shadows in the room, Linda’s casualness. Her jacket was zipped up so that the collar framed he
r face. Her cheeks were rosy red from the cold. She was wearing gloves. Josie didn’t remember her wearing gloves while they walked. There was sand on the carpet. Linda’s shoes had tracked sand into the house. Her shoes. Josie was looking at them – staring at them - when Linda laughed.

  “Your game face isn’t so good anymore, Josie,” Linda chided. “There’s something on your mind, and I have a feeling it just might have something to do with me.”

  “Not everything revolves around you, Linda.” Josie tried to fake. Linda wasn’t fooled. She chuckled.

  “Oh, I think you’re fibbing. I saw something change out there. You didn’t think I noticed that? It was like a friggin’ light bulb going on over your head.” Linda leaned forward and pantomimed. The smile faded, her eyes hardened. “Why don’t you just tell me what got your short hairs up? Does it have something to do with what you’re looking at, Josie? What’s that? There.” Linda nudged the photographs with her toe. “That one. What’s that one?”

  Josie picked it up and held it out to Linda. It was self-explanatory but Josie said:

  “You and Hannah by the fire truck.” Linda took it. Her brow furrowed. “It was two o’clock in the morning when the fire broke out.”

  “I didn’t exactly look my best.” Linda let the photo flutter to the floor.

  “You were dressed,” Josie pointed out. “You were fully dressed, Linda.”

  “I threw some clothes on when I saw the fire. It’s just a top and slacks, my shoes. It took a few seconds.”

  “But you saw Hannah start the fire,” Josie reminded her. “That’s what you testified to. You saw her. If you saw her, then you had to be dressed before the fire started. Then you had to be outside when the fire started. Why were you outside?”